Castle On A Cloud
by hpbebekthx
Summary: Draco meets a mysterious young girl, which leads to several other strange happinings at Hogwarts. story is written through regular old story telling, letters and journal entries. Have to read the whole thign for it to make sense, so a deffinate WIP! R
1. The first sighting

He followed the voice, it seemed quiet and far away, but as soon as he turned the corner there was the source of the song, washing a window. It was a girl, a young one, probably only eight or nine, and while she scrubbed she hummed a low, sorrowful sounding tune. He vaguely recognised it, as though he had heard it once very long ago, but only in the background of something much more important. The girl kneeled down to wet the rag she was using, and as she came up she started actually singing the song.  
  
"There is a castle on a cloud, I like to go there in my sleep, Aren't any floors for me to sweep, Not in my castle on a cloud."  
  
There was something odd about this girl, he decided firmly. There was something terrible bitter sweet about her on a whole. She didn't hold any particular airs, and since she was facing the other way (washing the same spot over and over) he could not see her face. Her clothes were simple, her hair a dull brownish blonde, and she was unhealthily skinny, and yet. There was that something that he couldn't quite put his finger on.  
  
"There is a room that's full of toys, There are a hundred boys and girls, Nobody shouts or talks too loud, Not in my castle on a cloud."  
  
He had never seen her before-but that was understandable as there were at least a thousand students at Hogwarts-but something about her seemed so familiar. He knew this would drive him mad until he found out, but then another thought hit him. Why on earth was she washing windows? Didn't they have house elves for that? Wasn't Granger always going on about their rights? What would she say of she knew that there was actual child labour going on in the school, she would probably quit right then and there. No, he reminded himself, she wouldn't because the school could be crumbling down and she would risk her life to get her homework. Another thing nagging at him was that she was washing the same patch of grimy glass again and again, and it was doing nothing. The window was still slightly foggy with dust and everything old, not one speck had changed.  
  
"There is a lady all in white, Holds me and sings a lullaby, She's nice to hear and she's soft to touch, She says, "Cosette, I love you very much."  
  
Now her shoulder were shaking with suppressed tears, her other hand that had hung limply by her side now shook slightly. He wanted to comfort her, which was odd because being in Slytherin, that just wasn't the type of thing you did, on the rare occasion some one did cry, you let them do it while pretending they weren't, and once they had finished you let them become part of the world again. Most people his away from others, were they didn't think others could find them. Perhaps that was what this girl was doing, seeking solace in solitude as a Slytherin would have done. Perhaps she was washing and singing because she didn't want to think about what was going on in her life right now. But even as he elaborated his story he knew it was just that, a story. Based on some fragment of truth, a myth based on what he knew. He didn't want to leave her alone, she was just a child, but he had a feeling that she would not want him to be there, to see what he was seeing  
  
"I know a place where no one's lost, I know a place where no one cries, Crying at all is not allowed, Not in my castle on a cloud."  
  
Despite the rules of her castle, though, when she turned around, the rag falling from her hand, her eyes were streaming tears, tears that seemed to flicker in the almost non-existent light. She reached out for Draco, her whole body screaming of exhaustion. Eyeing warily, He took her hand, looking down at her face to see if it would betray some of her secrets, but she was looking ahead, pointing with one hand towards a small door he had not noticed before. She looked up at him, blinking slowly. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but after a moment she closed it, and turned ahead again, and with a slight pull on his hand, started walking towards the other side of the room, but after only a few steps He noticed how she did not walk that well, but limped, favouring one leg, and after a few more steps she fell, a look of horror on her face, but making no sound, nor making any move to catch herself. He quickly moved himself behind her, breaking her fall and righting her himself. She made no move to do anything at all, made no sound of gratitude, made no motion to assist in him helping her up, just let the world slide by her. Finally, as the room seemed to be getting longer and longer with every stumble, he bent down and picked her up, carrying her to the door. He was shocked at how little time it took to go the rest of the way with out the stalls. Placing her down he reached towards the doorknob, and turned it. It didn't open. He turned it the other way. It still wouldn't open. "It won't open." He turned sharply, and she flinched away. "Sorry, but what?" He knew he sounded stupid, but why it mattered to him that he sounded stupid in front of an eight year old eluded him. "It won't open for you, at least it shouldn't. It only opens for us." She turned, and reached out one hand, the rest of her perfectly still, turned the doorknob, and stood back as the door opened. His mouth did something it hadn't done in a very long time then. It opened in a shocked "o", and he was sure his jaw was hitting the floor. This was a room in which the likes of he had never seen. 


	2. Second sighting

And then it was gone. He was standing back by the window, staring at her. She was still there, looking at him.hopefully? He shook his head, closing his eyes. Kneading his temples with two fingers, he slowly opened them. And blinked several times. She was gone. Her little bucket full of soapy suds, her wet rag, her helpless eyes. He looked quickly over to the far wall. The door was gone to. The room seemed almost noisy now, without the silence after her singing.  
  
For a second the sun came out from behind it's cloud, and shone through the grime onto something shiny. Being of a rich family, he had been trained to notice these things. Walking over, his subconscious registered that he was standing where the girl had been. It was a necklace that was sparkling, a long thin gold chain with a musical note hanging off it. He picked it up for further inspection, and saw that the clasp was made of two people reaching out to each other, their hands meeting to fasten the jewellery around the neck. Without thinking he threw it over his head, and was immediately shocked at how heavy it was for such a fine chain. Shaking his head again, he looked at his watch. Half past, he was dangerously close to being late. Swearing, he turned sharply and ran.  
  
And noticed how horribly he was lost. Every wall looked the same, and every turn seemed to lead to a dead end. And then he heard it. It was like the singing, but this time he heard a young child's laughing, and saw the swish of a white dress disappear around the corner. Thinking he couldn't get anymore lost, he followed, running to keep up with the swishing skirts. Finally, he tumbled around a corner and nearly ran into the small girl there. She was very different form the first one; she had bouncing dark brown hair, sparkling brown eyes, and a small laughing mouth. She looked like she had never cried in her short life. This girl looked like she was younger than the other one as well, at least four, maybe five. Smiling up at him innocently she pulled him down to her level, pulling him close. Unlike the other girl, this one never stayed still, bouncing on her heals, twisting her hair on a chubby finger, and-he assumed this what she was doing-trying to smile showing all her teeth.  
  
"You found me." She said, in a sickly adorable sounding voice. "And now your were you needed to be. Welcome!" She curtsied and skipped away, laughing in a far off a bouncing way. He had very little time to wonder what had just happened, because the bell had rung and his fellow students jostled him into the classroom.  
  
Potions was a very easy class for him, he could pass it even if his teacher wasn't biased in favour of his house. He was very good at it naturally. He took his normal seat near the back, and took out his potions ingredients. Snape banged in only moments later, announcing that they were would work on a potion called he called "Dreaming awake". He explained that the drinker of this potion would be asleep and awake at the same time, in a sense.  
  
"You will be in a dream like state, but you will be awake. It is a way many people get the rest they would not normally get otherwise, the best friend to crammers and new parents. Now, the instructions on the board, and I expect this to be done by the end of class. Begin!"  
  
He copied down the instructions, a routine he had fallen into in second year. Chopping up the ingredients, he glanced around the room, and nearly gasped. There was another one, except this one was a boy, about twelve this time, writing lines out on the board. He looked very muggle like with long blue hair pulled into a low ponytail, his clothes black and baggy.  
  
"Some of us would do to get to work, instead of staring at walls." Snape called out to the class, but he knew it was directed at him. He returned to his work, and when he chanced another look towards the board, the boy was gone. This was something he didn't't understand, and that made him feel uncomfortable, because he knew everything he wanted to know, and when he didn't't he found out who did know and would threaten them until they cried or told, either way, it satisfied him immensely. But he had a feeling here was no one he could taunt the information out of this time, and this made him feel oddly inept, another feeling he didn't't like. He also didn't like all this feeling, he was usually very cold and distant, to everyone. It wasn't the most sociable thing, but it got him through the day. But now he had wanted to comfort a stranger, had been bewildered by a four year old and now was confused because he was seeing things no one else seemed to. Finally her resolved to simply ignore it and hope it went away, and if all else failed he could-here he mentally (and perhaps physically as well) flinched- go to a teacher, or-here he could actually feel his ancestors rolling over in their graves-go see Dumbldore. The best idea seemed to be to just wait it out and hope it stopped. 


	3. Worries of Severus

Dumbldore,  
  
I am deeply concerned for the well being of Mister Malfoy. He doesn't seem himself lately, and though I doubt that this is a terrible thing, it still worries me. He spent all Potions class trying to find different ways to look at the blackboard, heaven knows why. He seems very distracted of late, he spends more time during meals craning his neck around trying to find someone who obviously isn't there than eating.  
  
I've also caught him out of bed after hours once, and in interests sake I followed him. I half expected him to be leading me to some broom cupboard or the astronomy tower, in which case I would have to interfere with such activities as both you and I know go on in both circumstances, but I was quite shocked when after leading me through a series of hallways I had not even known existed right to a small room, about the size of my ingredients store room. He stood still for a while, surveying the room, then walked up to a window, crouched down and inspected ever last bit of it, frame and glass. As odd as this was, he walked the length of the room, looking very concentrated on the task at hand.  
  
He seemed to be counting his steps, pausing every now and then, ducking down, then standing sharply up and walking again. All very strange. When he made it to the other side, he continued his search by running his hands and eyes over the entire wall, right into every corner. He looked very concerned, as though he remembered something being there and now it wasn't. And this was the oddest bit, he started singing. Well, not really singing, he was kind of humming a melody throwing in the odd word to an odd note, and I'm not sure if you've ever heard a Slytherin sing, but we simply can't. It's one of our traits, we are crafty, devious, and we couldn't sing, "Michael, row the boat ashore" to save our lives. The latter, I assume, is left out of the sorting hats song because it's not really an appealing thing. Anyways, to say the least, Mister Malfoy is no exception to this.  
  
It was awful, but the point is not his singing abilities but the fact that he was trying to do it. If it helps at all, I believe some of the words he was singing were "Shouts or talks to loud." "A lady dressed in white"; "I know a place were no one's lost." and one he said the most "Not in my castle on a Cloud." Once he was done, he waited a few seconds, then seemed obviously disappointed something hadn't happened, and walking away, saying it had been a bloody waste of time and he probably only been imagining things.  
  
As headmaster of this school, perhaps you know what he was trying to accomplish? Or has he finally lost what bit of sanity he miraculously managed to keep? With all respect,  
  
Yours truly,  
  
Serverus Snape 


	4. Why?

Dumbldore smiled to himself as he finished Snape's Letter. So it was happening again, but funny that had picked Draco, they generally chose Ravenclaw's because of their old heads on young shoulders. But history can be altered, for their sake. It was funny, he had seen a muggle, what were they called?.movie. In this movie there had been a little boy claiming he saw "dead people". He also said that the dead people did not know that they were dead, the simple walked around, wondering why no one talked to them. They were like that, just like that. They walked about, some asking for help, other smugly ignoring everyone. Not that he thought at all that Draco had a "sixth sense". As a matter of fact far from it. If memory served-and he was almost sure it did-that every fifty years or so they tried to escape from _________ into what they called "sanctuary". The "real" world, as it was.  
  
Often they picked the person they thought most likely to help them, left subtle hints to them, and hoped they figured it out. Oh, other people could help, but only if he asked them to and told them everything. Then that person could see them as well, and help to free them. But they could not tell anyone else about them. Because that would be betraying their trust, and they thrived on trust, it was the key to it all.  
  
He closed his eyes, suddenly weary. How he wished he could have helped them when he had the chance..  
  
~*~  
  
February 24  
  
I've seen another one, and I am starting to wonder if I really truly am insane. I think this one's name is Josephine. She looked to be about mid thirties, with greying brown hair. I couldn't tell if she was magical or not though because her clothes seemed rather old fashioned and could fit either a witch or a mere muggle. She hummed a bit, but nothing I recognized.  
  
Oh bother, another's just shown up. This one seems quite smug. Could be a sixth or seventh year by the looks of him.so far out of all of them that I've met I like this one the least. Walking about as if he owned the place, that's my job. Some people. His name is Sebastian, I think. Who names their poor child Sebastian? Probably the same people who name their children Draco.honestly. Well, he's just winked at me and walked off, and I have a transfiguration report due tomorrow. Five rolls! If I survive tonight it will only be thanks to coffee.  
  
A/N Sorry if it's kinda short.I'm trying, but I wanted people to know (ish) why he was seeing these people and the actually get some plot going! Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to Jessica Halliwell Potter who actually wanted to know what was going on, reviewed and therefore inspired me to write! Ok, enough of that.. 


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